


enjoy it, because it's happening

by gonnaliveforever (orphan_account)



Series: we'll be alright though [2]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Feelings, Fluff, Happy Ending, M/M, harry's dumb and wasted, liam's a bit of a sap, loads of feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-08
Updated: 2015-12-08
Packaged: 2018-05-05 15:34:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5380526
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/gonnaliveforever
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Harry’s plastered, ratty t-shirt clinging to sweaty skin, has his long hair pinned up in a bun at the top of his head, strands coiling down his face and sticking to his skin. It’s hot, almost unbearably so, the lights blinding to his eyes.</i>
</p><p>
  <i>Yeah, he’s definitely drunk, thanks to Ed, good ol’ Ed.</i>
</p><p> </p><p>or the one where harry’s drunk and some bad (and good) things happen</p>
            </blockquote>





	enjoy it, because it's happening

**Author's Note:**

> hi everyone, this is sort of in series with another fic i wrote and posted, but it can be read as a standalone if you want. they just work together if you want them to.
> 
> anyways!!! sorry that this fic by the end turns into just a mess of feelings; or the entirety of it really is just a mess of feelings. i apologize. i have a tendency to let feelings control the fic and that's something i'm working on.
> 
> enjoy this mess of feelings!! love you all :)
> 
> p.s., this fic is based off of a prompt in zoe(fifthalbum)'s prompt tag, so this is kind of written for them, even though it's terribly written and poor and just.... sorry in advance zoe!

Harry's plastered, ratty t-shirt clinging to sweaty skin, has his long hair pinned up in a bun at the top of his head, strands coiling down his face and sticking to his skin. It’s hot, almost unbearably so, the lights blinding to his eyes. 

Yeah, he's definitely drunk, thanks to Ed, good ol' Ed.

In Ed's defence, Harry's been a right twat, ignoring phone call after phone call on tour, all grumpy and angry about the situation at hand, thinking that maybe if he ignored it, it’d go away. It isn't Ed's fault either, never is, is the one to take the piss out of everything and have Harry feeling less, em, shitty? That's the word, yeah. 

He's not a clue where Ed is, either, having seen him chatting up some bird on the other side of the pub in his damn flannel that Harry nearly didn't let him wear, swore it'd give Ed a heatstroke. Funnily enough, Harry seems to be the one headed in that direction, in One Direction, really. 

Harry loves a good pun.

Ed's easy enough to spot when Harry looks around, red-headed glory helping him loads in his haze. The moment he sees him is when he, smartly, decides to walk over to him, sod the chick Ed's taking up. Harry wants to rant more, yell about Liam a bit, now that he's thought of him. 

Liam and his stupidly gorgeous face that Harry wants to kiss all the time. Liam and his smile that lights up the room he's in. Liam and his competence in handling Louis, a skill that one of them desperately needs in order for the lot of them to survive tour. Liam and his stupidly strong arms that Harry wishes would hold him at night, keep him away from all the bad in the world. Liam and his eyes that stand out in comparison to the rest of the light-eyed boys in the band. Liam and his neck, that Harry would love to mark up as his own but, Liam and his _girlfriend_ , Sophia. 

If Harry were sober, he'd not let himself think of Liam like this, it too painful for him to bear nowadays, especially because he and Liam had a bit of a thing when Sophia and Liam had split up the second time. 

It hadn't lasted long, not as long as Harry would've liked (forever would've been the like), but it was still nice for both parties involved; blowies from mates were nice, hand jobs right in reach, instead of having to search for someone to do it for you. Actual sex was a boundary that they'd never crossed, however, neither of them prepared for it and what it could mean, because, sometimes mates suck you off or even put a hand on your dick, but up the arse? 

"Too much," Harry says to himself, sipping from his Long Island Ice Tea, scanning the crowd again. Ed's seemingly disappeared again, and now Harry's on the other side of the floor, nearly in the midst of all the dancing. He's seen a few people eye him down while he's been here, normal for him, and a few flashes. Nothing alarming, really. 

He spots someone, broad shoulders and a tiny waist, and he does a double take, thinking it's Liam. It's not, when he looks again. The guy is too tall to be Liam, Harry towering over Liam as he'd like to put it, by a mere inch or so. This guy also has darker hair than Liam, and dresses more like Harry.

Fuck it, he thinks.

He makes his way over to him after downing the rest of his beverage and placing it on the counter, hips swaying as he does. He knows he's caught the attention of the guy, as he's staring right at him now, and through his haze, he can tell that he's attractive, very much so. 

"Hey there, wanna dance?" Harry's not much for subtly, crowding up in the man's space as soon as he's close enough.

Liam lookalike nods, immediately going for Harry's waist, and he lets him; it helps him keep his body moving to the beat of the song, his body never really working the way he wants it to anyway. 

It's weird, dancing with lookalike, because, all he can think about is Liam again, and it's bloody annoying. He pushes Liam to the back of his thoughts, grinding up against lookalike and whispering into his ear, "What's your name, stud?" 

Lookalike leans into Harry, and his breath reeks of alcohol, something Harry shouldn't be complaining of when he knows his does as well. "I'm Cole, mate, and you are?" He's still in Harry's face, not even moving back to look at him clearly, and Harry notices that his eyes are bleary like his own, and Cole tightens his grip on Harry's hips. 

"Edward," Harry yells back, looping his arms around Cole's neck and grinding into him once more, not interested in talking anymore. Cole seems to take the bait and moves them to the beat of this weird, EDM song that Harry doesn't think should be played at a pub, or anywhere for that matter. He also knows that him dancing with this guy may cause some more rumors, but he doesn't care, too hammered. It's not like he's lied about his sexuality to the fans, per say, he's just, well, into women and men, and people in general. He knows there's a word for it, but he can't remember it right now, too lost in the feeling of his thigh slipping between Cole's and rubbing against him. 

"D'ya wanna take this somewhere more private?' Cole breathes into his ear, and suddenly, Harry feels sick. 

"Wish I could, mate," Harry starts, then pulls himself out from Cole's grip, patting him on the shoulder a few times. "But I really should find me mates, don't want them thinking i've gotten lost, yeah?" 

He lets out a sigh then, as he leaves Cole without waiting for a response, getting his phone out from his pocket and sending a text to Ed.

_Goiign outside to cook donw. TEdt me when oyu want to leafe . Good lcuk pulling that chuck by the way. Sorry fo r mistakes_

After sending the text, Harry finds the exit after pushing through throngs of people, nearly screaming out in relief as the cool March air hits his skin, thanking the lord that London doesn't heat up until May. 

He's outside for a bit, letting his skin cool until there's goosebumps on his arms, and then suddenly it's cold enough that he wishes he would've brought a jacket, or at least wore longer sleeves. He's never been the smart one, though, has he? 

It's this reason he tugs his phone out again, searching through his contacts until he finds who he's looking for, and clicks the name allowing it to ring. He presses his phone to his ear, watching as he breathes out and he can see his breath, laughing as he puffs out breaths of air and it keeps happening. 

"'lo?" 

"Liaaaaam," Harry breathes too loudly, snorting as he can see his breath  _again_ , and he wonders if it'll ever stop. He's not sure if he's talking about the cold, or his feelings for Liam.

There's silence on the other line for a couple of seconds, and then Harry can hear shuffling about and the snick of a door, then Liam's speaking, "What's up, Haz, are you alright? It's pretty late for you to be calling–" 

"'m drunk, Liam." 

"Ah," Liam says, realization sudden in his voice. He's not being talkative and It puts Harry off, he's not sure why, though; maybe because Liam's always been the one to keep the conversations between them steady, even in times where they necessarily didn't want to be talking to one another. That started when Liam and Sophia got back together. "Are you with anyone?" 

Harry kicks at the ground, shouting out as he stubs his toe, ignoring the worried sound Liam makes on the other line, sliding down the brick wall of the pub until he's sat on his bum, legs out and bent at his knees. He ends up picking at a loose piece of thread from his jeans, and hums. "'m with Ed, yeah, but he's somewhere inside trying to find a bird to go home with," Harry slurs, flattening his palm against his thigh. Really, he should go back inside, because he has no idea how safe this alleyway is, but talking to Liam seems to be his plan right now. Not a bad plan at all, he thinks, laughing to himself. "I miss you." 

"How wasted are you." Liam's voice is deeper than usual, sleep-filled like Harry had woken him up. 

"On a scale of one to ten?" 

"Yeah." 

"Thirty-five." Harry hiccups, leaning his head back against the brick. It takes him a moment, but he laughs hard, slapping his knee. "Oh shit, buggers, sorry Liam. Thirty-five isn't between one to ten." 

Liam sighs, sounding frustrated and there's a little bit of annoyance in there as well. Harry didn't know a sigh could convey so much. "I know, Harry." 

"If 'm bothering you,  _Liam_ , go back to bed with Sophia." 

"Harry–" 

"No," Harry says, angry now. "No, you  _chose_ her, Liam. You chose her over me when you got back together while we were still figuring each other out, while we were finding ourself in one another-" 

There's rustling in the background, and Harry stops speaking, confused. It's not until he hears another door click shut and the whooshing of the wind into the phone, does he begin talking again, bitterly, "Didn't want her to hear you, did you? Don't want her to know that while you were talking about getting back together with her, you were sucking my di–" 

"Shut up, Harry! Just, shut... shut up! This is exactly why I didn't want to get into this in the first place with you. I  _told_ you that our break was most likely just a thing until tour ended, that it wasn't permanent, and what did you say? You said you were alright with it," Liam's shouting, but not, at the same time. 

Harry's too drunk to stand now, it finally hitting him, and he doesn't care anymore, this being the reason for what he says next, "Yeah, Liam. I did say I was alright with it, because I was. Do you think I wanted this to happen, Liam? I didn't fucking plan on falling in love with you, okay? I didn't fucking write all of my songs on our last album about you, for you to be with someone that's not me?!"

It's silent again, and Harry can't take it, knowing that he's ruined everything with Liam, their friendship, probably the band, hell, he's maybe even broken some universal code that specifically stated "do not tell Liam about your love for him", he doesn't know. "Goodnight, Liam," Harry says gently, clicking the end button on his phone, despite Liam now speaking up. He curls up on the ground, arms wrapped around himself, and passes out. 

He wakes up groggy, an ache in his body that hurts, but not nearly as bad as his throbbing head. He's not in his apartment, he notices as he looks around the bright room. He's not sure where he is, really.

He could've been kidnapped for all he knows. How sad is it that he wouldn't be surprised?

"You're such a fucking idiot, Harry." 

Harry looks up from where he'd been trying to plan an escape exit, to see Liam standing in front of him, holding a bottled water and a couple of Advil. He hands them to Harry, waits for Harry to take them and down the water, and glares down at him. That's when Harry realizes that he's in Liam's room, and Liam's bed, and what? "What'd I do?" 

"What'd you do? This is fucking priceless! Of course you don't remember what you did," Liam sneers, pacing around the room, and it'd be alarming if Liam didn't do that in most situations. It's then that Harry notices that Liam's clad in a pair of boxers, chiseled chest on display and suddenly Harry can't breathe and the room's hot. 

"Can you sit down and talk to me like a normal human being, Liam? It's too early for this pacing shit," Harry murmurs stoically, stretching out on the bed so his tummy is visible. He swears he sees Liam glance at it, his fingers twitch, before he's continuing his pacing. 

"No, we cannot. You told me some things last night, Harry, that I can't ignore. That  _we_ , people that work in a band together, can't ignore." 

"Wait, fuck, I–" 

Liam runs a frustrated hand through his hair, and if Harry weren't so mad at himself, he'd be able to appreciate how hot Liam looks when he's stressed. "Yeah, Harry, you told me. I don't even have to say it, because you know what it is." 

Harry snorts, rolling onto his side so he's not facing Liam, and yeah; he's always been the childish one, the media and fans having been wrong on that perception of him. He's not about to cry, either, eyes welling up with tears due to his allergies; yeah, that's it. "You can't even fucking say it, Liam, that shows how much I've fucked things up. Why am I even here? For you to let me down gently, is that it? To tell me that you don't love me back, something that I've known since you chose her? Well newsflash, Liam; you didn't have to do that because it's blatantly obvious!" 

"Look at me." Harry ignores him, and then there's a dip on the bed next to him, a hand pressed to his side and he's being pulled onto his back, Liam's eyes ablaze with something he's never seen before. "You're fucking stupid if you don't know by now that it's always been you." 

Harry's eyebrows furrow together, and, wait.. what? "Always been me? What are you even on about, Liam?" 

Liam keeps his hand on Harry's side, gripping him like he's going to suddenly disappear. Liam's hand is warm, insistent, and Harry likes it so much, never wants it to leave – never wants Liam to leave. "From day one, it's been you. I didn't think you cared about me in that way, Harry. I thought that when we started hooking up, it was just a thing to make me feel better, and nothing more. That's why I got back with Sophia, because, I couldn't do it with you anymore, not when I felt like this." 

"Felt like what," Harry whispers, feeling like his heart is about to burst out of his chest, hand resting on Liam's upper thigh. "Felt like what? Tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me–" 

"Shut up," Liam says, laughing. "Shut up, Harry, oh my god. I love you, you twit. I love you so much, bugger fuck, like, with everything in me. Have since we met, really." 

Harry barks out a laugh at that, surprised, a hand flying up to grab at Liam's shirt and pull him in, still laughing when Liam falls on top of him. He presses a kiss into Liam's mouth, chaste, but it's everything and more. "You idiot! Why haven't you told me 'til now, then?" 

Liam's smile is so wide, infectious and blinding, and Harry loves him. "Didn't think you did, shut up. I didn't think you did!" 

"To be far," Harry starts, grinning up at Liam with innocent eyes, hand trailing up so he can cup Liam's cheek. Liam leans into his hand, and Harry can't stop himself from swiping his thumb across his cheekbone. "I didn't know until you got back together with Soph, if I'm honest. Speaking of, where–" 

"Broke up with her. Couldn't, I couldn't do it. Not when I found out that you do too. The idea of not taking a risk with you, to see how great we can be, is scarier than to actually try." 

"Liam Payne," Harry says, seriously, dragging Liam down to kiss him again, slightly longer this time. "You're such a goddamn sap, I love you, did you know that? You know that, right? I don't have to open your windows and scream it to the world, do i? Because I will, so help me God." 

Liam crawls on top of Harry, knees on either side bracketing him in to the bed, Liam's eyes bright with something that Harry can't tell. Liam gently takes Harry's hands in his, linking their fingers together, and Harry's thinking about how nice it is to feel Liam's hands in his own, different than any hands he's ever held. Nice and strong, and calloused from how hard Liam grips the microphone, and a bit hairy, and Harry likes it so, so much, that he's not paying attention to Liam and Liam pinning him down to the bed comes as a complete surprise. 

"Liam, what are you doing?" 

"Shh, you talk too much," Liam mumbles as he leans down and brushes his lips across Harry's, and Harry's never felt this feeling in his stomach from just kissing someone, this euphoric feeling like he could accomplish anything in the world, and that's when Harry know he's been kissing all the wrong people in his life. 

Harry remembers to kiss Liam back this time, and the tentativeness of the kiss between them is present; kissing isn't something they ever did when hooking up, so, this is something that's new for the both of them. Harry pushes up against Liam, trying to get more of him, but Liam firmly holds him down, keeping him pressed into the mattress, eliciting a moan from Harry.

"Been wanting to kiss you since we got put together in the band, mate," Liam murmurs into Harry's mouth and in between kisses, "Even before that, I reckon, when you were doddling around in your beanie and I wanted to take you by the hand and kiss you senseless then. Can you imagine how much that's grown since then?" 

Harry laughs as Liam pulls back, both of them a bit breathless, and Harry can't do much else but nod and whisper to Liam, "A bit, I think." 

Liam drops his forehead to press it against Harry's, sliding his thigh between Harry's so he can get a bit more comfortable. "Even in the darkest days, I'd think of you, and everything would be okay. Like how the planets have their sun, that lights them up, makes them feel alive and like they're able to breathe again? You're that for me. You're my sun." 

Harry surges forward to kiss Liam, this sudden urge to just kiss him again, again, again, until the both of them are sick of it, has taken over him. Liam's relentless about it too, just like Harry, and they kiss for so long that both of them lose track of time, kissing until it's become dark out and their jaws hurt. 

"I love you." 

Neither of them are sure who said it, but it doesn't matter, because they both mean it.

(although Harry would fight and say that he was the one that said it) 

 

fin

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for the shit ending!!! i might add a third part sometime over break coming up.... (if y'all want; it'd probably just be cute fluff and maybe comin out to the work bc i'm a sucker for that stuff) 
> 
> come bug me on tumblr: iffolkswannapopoff


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